Amelia's Point of View
I am a lot of things. I know I am. I'm a lot of things that aren't so great. I'm impulsive, sometimes horribly so. I say things without speaking. I'm selfish and I'm an idiot even, because even though I get a stomachache, I'll still eat an entire box of oreos while watching a chick flick. That's something I'm really not proud of, doing either part of that sentence, but like I said, I'm a lot of things. One thing I'm not, though, is a liar. Maybe some people would see this as a fault, but it's always been how I define myself. I say what I mean and I mean what I say. I hate lying. But I know sometimes it's necessary, and that's why my day today is full of doing exactly that.
The first person I lie to is my son. When we're checking on Roberta Paige, my surgery at four-thirty, he beams. I explain to him what I'm doing in the best terms I can for a five year old. Roberta gives me the go ahead, she's absolutely enthralled by his sweet face. I don't blame her. He's a charmer. She sits up and lets Teddy use my stethoscope to hear her heart. I place it for him, and we all stand in silence as Teddy crinkles his face trying to listen. I can tell when he hears it, because he looks up at me with his jaw wide open, excitement shining in his eyes.
"Good job, Bear!" I exclaim. "You heard it?" He nods, but then he seems a little bit frightened by the idea, so he gives me the stethoscope back. I tell Roberta that everything looks good and everything is on track for four-thirty, and I can tell that Teddy made her day. It makes me happy that I brought him. Everyone loves him. He's easy to love. When we leave, I'm holding Teddy again. He's playing with the stethoscope around my neck, examining it as if he's trying to understand its magic powers. It's easy to forget how smart he is when he isn't talking, but he's always been so smart. He's gifted, and I can say that, because I'm borrowing his teacher's words. It's really not just me being a mom. I think about all he's heard today, what he was thinking with Jo. We walk down the hallway and stop at the vending machine, and I let him point to what he wants and then put the dollar in himself.
His eyes light up as the Mrs. Fields cookie drops to the bottom, and his arm is so little he has to go shoulder deep just to get it out. We sit down in the two chairs next to the vending machines and I unwrap the cookie for him halfway, so the first half is available for him to chomp down on. He looks up at me and holds it up, offering me a piece, and I feel too loved by the gesture to say no. I take a little bite right off the cookie and it makes Teddy smile. When he takes another bite, he gets a bit of melted chocolate on the tip of his nose. I laugh at how cute he is, and he smiles at my laugh.
"Hey, Teddy Bear," I say, trying to keep my tone casual and light. "I want to talk to you about our day as a doctor today, okay?"
He tilts his head and nods, taking another bite of his cookie.
"Sometimes people need help, but..." I stop and try to think of how to explain it. "Sometimes other people don't know how much help they need and think they're okay, but really they need a lot of help. Like when you fall on a rug, you know how it hurts really bad? But it doesn't look that bad. It doesn't even look like a boo-boo at all. But that doesn't mean it isn't. And it doesn't mean you don't need a band-aid."
Teddy blinks and nods at me. I can't tell if he understands or not. I wish he could talk to me.
"Sometimes you have to help people even when it's hard. Sometimes you have to break the rules to do it." Teddy's eyebrows raise. He's alarmed at the idea of his mom breaking the rules, and I immediately regret saying it. This is where the lying comes in. "But not always," I say quickly. "That doesn't always happen. I just want you to know if it ever happens to you, you can tell me."
I'm not even sure it makes sense. I doubt he'll retain it. But he nods, so in that moment, he takes it better than the idea of me lying. I can mess up a thousand times, I can put his life in danger, but I don't lie. I know how to comb his hair after a bath the right way and I always know just how to rub his tummy when he gets a stomachache. Those little moments... that's what being a mother is, right? The big parts I can fundamentally and irreversibly screw up, but as long as I sing to him after a bedtime story and always have tissues in my pocket for him, I'm still his mommy. I'm still what he knows me to be.
After Teddy finishes his cookie, he wads the wrapper up in a ball and walks himself to the nearby trashcan to throw it away. I decide to check up on Jo, since I gave her an hour. The dwindling time gives me a sinking feeling in my stomach. For some reason, it feels like this is my one day with Teddy and once it's over, it's over.
I let Teddy ride on the wheels of the ultrasound machine and I push him. I would never have done it if I wasn't trying so hard to atone for everything with him, and I wonder if that makes me an even worse parent. But Teddy giggles and his hair flaps back into his face when I push and for the moment, that's enough to keep me going.
I knock on the door to her room and stand outside it for a few minutes, waiting for an answer. When there isn't one, I knock again. I give her another moment before I twist the knob and slowly unlatch the door, peering inside. As soon as I see Jo curled up in a ball and passed out on the bed, I smile and open it wider. Teddy spots Jo sleeping too, so he steps carefully off the wheels so he doesn't make any extra noise. The tray next to her is wiped clean and she's in the gown I gave her, her hair still damp from the shower. She looks comfortable... and that is no easy feat being pregnant. If I didn't have a surgery in an hour, I probably would have let her sleep longer. But instead, I nudge her shoulder to start on lie number two.
Jo's Point of View
For the second time in two days, I actually have to think about where I am when I wake up. I woke up in the gas station yesterday and almost crapped my pants because it was such a strange place and I forgot where I was. Waking up in this hospital room is no different. I forgot where I was at for a moment...I guess that's what happens when you don't have one steady, consistent place to sleep. I wrinkle my eyebrows as my eyelids, though they're still shut, adjust to the lighting in the room. I wince a little bit at the throbbing, pulsating ache behind my left eyeball. When my eyelids part, my vision takes a while to adjust and I have to blink a few times to bring everyone into focus. Did I really just pass out like that? God, I didn't realize how tired I was. I blink a few more times and finally, I see that Amelia's hovering over me and her son is standing just a few paces behind her. My head is pounding, probably due to the fact that I fell asleep so suddenly and slept so hard, but I lift it up off the pillow anyway. I prop myself up on one elbow and use my right hand to rub my eyes as a yawn escapes my mouth.
"Sleep well, sunshine?" she cracks a smile.
I wrinkle my eyebrows once again and rub my eyes hard, nodding the answer to her question. My hair slaps against the back of my neck and I feel that it's still pretty damp, so I swing it over my shoulder to keep it out of my way. I still don't think I've fully woken up yet, so I just don't say anything. Instead, I eyeball the machine she's got her hands on and take the moment to process exactly what it is I came here for in the first place. I kind of forgot. I got so wrapped up in the warm shower, the water hitting my aching feet and the decent meal that I forgot that this visit is actually for something-for someone, rather. I yawn again and look up at her.
"Sorry I-" I start to apologize for falling asleep, but I decide against it. I don't think I need to apologize. I think Amelia was halfway expecting me to fall asleep. "Is that for the baby?" I mumble, pointing to the machine. Of course it's for the baby, stupid. What else would it be for? I think I only asked that because I felt like I needed to say at least something to her.
"This old thing? No," she waves her hand in the air. "I just thought since I'm a doctor and all, I'd take this chance to show off some super cool medical equipment that I get to use everyday and you don't, before I get the actual ultrasound machine." Her son behind her giggles and she looks back and smiles at him before she looks back at me with a softer expression on her face. "Are you ready?"
"Mhm," I nod my head. I haven't been to an appointment to check on the baby in a really long time, but I'm pretty sure I remember that I have to lie flat on my back. I lower myself down on my back and rest my head in the middle of my pillow as I stare up at the ceiling tiles. Ii don't like lying on my back. It's uncomfortable and it feels like everything shifts. It feels like I can't breathe and it's just honestly the most uncomfortable thing in the world, aside from wearing jeans that don't fit me.
"Do you want me to have Teddy face the other way? You should be comfortable."
I look at the pale-faced, red-headed little boy and can't help but grin. In truth, I really don't feel like he should see me all bare, exposed and vulnerable. Not that I'm naked but I don't really show my belly to many people. I guess maybe I try to hide it as much as I can. When we lived back in Nevada, I had a friend named Casey and she would always try to get me to show it to her so she could kiss it and rub it and stuff. Granted, Casey was a drug addict and only came around because Chris was her supplier, but I still think we were friends. She looked out for me. Anyway, my point is that I don't usually let people see it. I'm not ashamed of it. I just think that showing off your bare belly is something you do only if you're overjoyed and excited about having a baby and I'm not exactly either one of those things. ...Maybe I am ashamed of it. I'm not proud...doesn't that mean I'm ashamed? I pull myself out of my thoughts and stare at the little boy, the one she calls "Teddy." He seems curious and if I were in his shoes, I think I'd want to watch my mommy take care of a pregnant lady. This is probably cool for him.
"He doesn't have to," I shake my head and allow Amelia to pull my gown back in front of her adorable little boy. It's not until my stomach is bare that I realize this might actually be scary for him. I mean, I think I'd be a little freaked out to see a stomach all stretched like this. If he's gonna look, this should at least be fun for him, right? "You ever see a belly this big?" I ask him.
He shakes his head quickly. He looks terrified that I spoke to him, clearly not expecting it.
"It's what happens when you eat a lotta donuts." I wink at him. He studies me for a few seconds before his face breaks into a grin and he shakes his head again. It's a different kind of shake, though. This time it's clear he's doing it to tell me that it isn't true, and I'm silly for thinking it.
"That's a baby in there, Bear," Amelia says, moving the transducer across my belly. I don't remember much from my last baby check-up, but I do know that this time is a lot more gentle. The last time, the gel was cold and it was uncomfortable but I didn't expect much from an old free clinic. At least Amelia's gentle, I guess. "Just like you used to be," she tells him. She turns to me then studies the machine until the sound of a steady heartbeat comes from it. "Baby looks and sounds great. Do you want to wait to find out the gender or do you want to know today?"
"The gender?" The question genuinely stumps me. I don't want to say that I forgot that the baby had a gender, but it honestly never crossed my mind. It never really occurred to me that I'm going to have a boy or a girl. I guess I've just been too busy worrying about other things, like whether or not my boyfriend and the father of the baby was going to end up in jail. And living in a gas station...well, you don't have much time to think about things like the sex of your baby. I might as well know right? "Y-You mean like...like if it's a boy or a girl?"
"Probably one of those, yeah, " she smiles at me, but not the kind of smile she usually smiles. Usually, when Amelia smiles at me, it's because the both of us are mutually making each other either laugh or grin. But this time, her smile is something else. It has a sense of amusement in it. Is she amused by me? Probably by your stupid questions, yeah.
"Right," I nod, answering both Amelia and the little voice bullying me in my head. "Um...I mean yeah, yeah." I nod quickly. "Yeah, tell me."
"You're sure?"
"Uh-huh." I never realized how much I wanted to know. It literally went from being the last thing on my mind to the only thing I can think about. Am I having a girl or a boy? I've been thinking of names...well, not lately, but I have. Mostly when I laid in bed next to Chris at night and couldn't sleep. I thought about Lilly, maybe. Or Jacob. I thought about names. But it might help if I knew what gender to think about. Yeah, I wanna know. "I'm sure."
"Okay," she nods and moves the transducer to get a different angle on the screen. Lines pop up on the screen and it's clear she's measuring, although I don't know what. Ii narrow my eyes a bit as I look at the screen but eventually, I give up. The picture is fuzzy and I have no idea what I'm looking at…Amelia does...and she smiles a little, still looking at the screen. "Well, right now your little girl is measuring at just about 33 weeks. It looks like you're going to have a little Christmas baby."
"You said a girl?" Suddenly, my eyes sting a little bit and my vision gets all blurry. I'm not sure if it's the hormones but I really want to cry. I won't though. I don't want to upset the angel-faced little boy still standing by his mother's side. "And Christmas? A-are you sure? About that? I...I actually remember the um...the first doctor I went to said that my due date was January 13th...but it was a little free clinic thing that I went to and it was kind of crappy, so she might've been wrong…"
"If you still have this baby inside you by January 13th, she might really break your back in half," she turns the screen towards me and points to a large, circular, fuzzy gray blip in the middle of the screen. "See that? There's her head. Her little arm is stretched up over it."
"She has an arm…" I whisper to myself, somewhere between shock and amazement. I'm not stupid. I know that a baby is a person and a person is inside of me right now. But still...she has an arm. And she's a she. I'm having a girl. I'm gonna have a daughter...this makes me feel...like nothing else in the world matters right now. Like I don't care that I'm pregnant, homeless, seventeen years old. Like I don't care that Chris abandoned me with nothing but a nickel in my pocket. This makes me feel like everything else in this world is irrelevant...makes me feel like I want to be a different kind of person. I don't want to be the worthless piece of crap that I've been; the piece of crap that steals everything and anything from a gas station. I don't know what I'm going to do but I know that I'm going to do something because the baby-she deserves something...and I don't want her to be ashamed to call me her mother. I'd be ashamed to call me my mother. But I don't want that to be the case. I don't think you can hear me...We share a body, not a mind. But just in case you can hear me, or feel me...just know that I'm sorry. And I do love you. "Is it-she okay? Everything's okay? She has a heartbeat and all that stuff? I haven't….I haven't messed her up?"
"You haven't messed her up," Amelia says, but then she looks away. When she turns back to the screen, her face falls and she stops moving the transducer.
"A-Amelia," I start, noting the look of somberness on her face. There's something wrong. I can tell. "Amelia, I'm...I'm almost eighteen years old and seven months pregnant...but I'm not stupid. Please don't treat me like I'm stupid, okay? If there's something wrong with my baby...can you just tell me? I...I already kind of know that there is." I look down at my round little bump. It's not very big but it's noticeable and it's round and it's large enough for me to not be able to see past it. "I figured that much. I...haven't been the best with this whole...pregnant thing," I mumble the "p" word. "And I know that I messed her up. So you can just tell me."
"You didn't mess her up," she says solemnly, toweling off my stomach and recovering it with my gown. "I just want to monitor her for a little bit to make sure everything stays that way. I'm going to have a nurse check up on you every few hours throughout the night. I need you to stay here for me tonight so we can make sure she stays okay, alright? I'm not going to admit you or do any paperwork. All you have to do is stay in this room and get anything you need from Linda. She's going to be the nurse that checks on you and the baby."
"Linda...okay." I sit up and swing my feet as they dangle over the edge of the table. "...Will you be back? Like tomorrow or something?"
"I have to go to a surgery now, but I'll come back before I leave for the day. And I'll be back in the morning."
"Okay," I whisper. In truth, I don't like the idea of her leaving me. I don't like thinking that she's leaving when A, she's clearly doing something wrong and B, what if someone calls me out on it? I don't think Amelia would let that happen but on the off chance, what if it does? What if someone barges in here and realizes that I'm not supposed to be here while Amelia's not here to take care of it? I'll lie for her. I'll tell them that I'm her niece, just like she said to. I won't like it, but I'll lie. But still...I wish she didn't have to go. "Alright," I say that louder so she can hear me, and tuck my damp hair behind my ears.
"You still have the card I gave you, right? If you need anything you can call my cell phone on it. No one is going to come in here, but if they do, you don't have to say anything. Just tell them my name. They'll come talk to me about it. But no one is going to come in here. Just relax and watch T.V. and take it easy for the night. I'll have Linda bring you a menu for dinner."
Dinner. Even the thought seems too pleasant to be true. I don't think I've ever really had a dinner before. Not even when I was still being shuffled back and forth between homes. I think I might've had one dinner before...maybe two. Foster parents aren't all bad, but the one that I did have before I pulled myself out of the system didn't cook me much dinner. It was mostly cereal and sometimes we had a box of pizza lingering around. Sure, I've had food before. Chris and I used to order out all the time. But I would hardly call that dinner. We used to eat it at 1:30 in the morning, sometimes later. It all depended on when Chris was hungry at the moment. So yeah...dinner sounds nice.
"Amelia...you don't have to do this for me." I look down at my bare knees and bite my lips. "Thanks."
"Just sit tight," she nods. "Go ahead, Teddy," she motions towards the ultrasound machine as she pushes it towards the door. He jumps on the wheels and holds on it with his arms stretched out across it, his face beaming with his cheek smushed against it. Amelia looks back at me and gives me one more nod before she leaves the room with her son and the machine that showed me my baby girl.
Amelia's Point of View
I walk in a daze towards the scrub room. After leaving a teenage girl alone to worry about her unborn baby, then dropping my own off at daycare, I'm thinking that I'm a big fat liar. I could justify it, explain it, convince myself I'm doing the right thing, and maybe all that's true, but I'm still a big fat liar. Really, I always have been. Thinking that I'm not is just kidding myself. I lie to my family, to my friends, I most definitely lie to myself all the time. What's the big deal about lying to a girl I brought in from a gas station? I'm a liar, I should be used to it.
I try to make myself feel better about it by forcing myself to think about the way Jo was passed out when I walked in. I imagine she'll sleep great tonight. I force myself to think about the full dinner and dessert. And just about a night where she's safe and comfortable and warm. It helps for a minute. Until that little voice in my head, the voice that isn't quite mine, but always appears to make me think about the logical explanation, overpowers my justification. You don't know her. Probably, she isn't living in a gas station. Probably, she isn't homeless. Probably, I'm keeping her when it's not necessary and forcing her to spend the night thinking something is wrong with her baby because I'm making an educated guess.
Dirty clothes. Still at gas station. No insurance. Came with a duffel bag of clothes to her appointment, as if she had nowhere else to keep her only possession in the world. I go over them like a checklist in my head. I should write them down and make a list, honestly. All The Reasons Jo Is Homeless. I mean, I could just ask her. But I doubt she'd tell me. I tell myself I'm doing it for the greater good, but does it really matter? I try to imagine someone doing this to me with Teddy and my blood boils. It's a horrible thing. It's horrible. She's sitting in that room with her perfectly healthy baby girl probably going through all the worst case scenarios. I think about her questions, so naive and innocent and sweet. You mean... if it's a boy or a girl? and the way she was with Teddy. I shouldn't have lied to her. I should have offered the room and let her make the decision for herself.
But I didn't want her to make the wrong one.
When the door swings open to the scrub room, I realize I've been scrubbing in for probably a solid ten minutes, completely lost in my own thoughts. I see a flash of blonde hair before I hear her panting.
"Amelia," she says, bending forward to catch her breath. She holds her hand out to tell me to give her a minute. "Amelia. I'm glad I caught you before you went in."
"Why?" I ask, tilting my head as she stands up.
"Because I want to know... if... if..."
"Spit it out, Arizona," I say, shaking my arms over the sink to air dry them.
"Where were you this morning?"
"That's what you had to find me for?" I can't help but laugh. "I didn't have surgeries, so I spent the morning at home with Owen and Teddy. Why? Did you need something?"
"No," she shrugs. "I was just bored. Callie's on some new health kick lately and it's all she wants to talk about. I mean, I can only hear about the miracle of lettuce and carrot sticks for so long. At home, on the way to work, at work. I just want a cookie."
I laugh and use my back to push open the door towards the OR, standing in the doorway to finish our conversation.
"At least you guys are talking about something."
Arizona frowns. "You and Owen aren't doing any better? I thought-"
I shake my head to cut her off. "Actually, I have a feeling things are about to get a lot worse. I'm keeping a pretty big secret from him."
"You're pregnant!"
"What? No!" I try to let the shock cover any sadness that might be in voice at the truth in my answer. "No, it's nothing like that."
"Then what is it? Why can't you tell him?"
I sigh and weigh the risks of telling her. Arizona is happy and upbeat and light-hearted, but she's the most trustworthy friend I have. I know she wouldn't tell. She'd probably want to help. Still, telling anyone is a big risk. There's always the possibility she could react badly.
"I snuck a girl into the hospital," I admit, ignoring the shock on her face. "I have to get into the OR, so I can't explain the details. But she's in room 546."
"Ah," Arizona nods. "The Ghost Rooms."
"Yeah," I agree. "She's 17 and pregnant and I'm pretty sure she's homeless, and she needs help. But Owen can't find out. If he finds out-"
"He's the Chief. Amelia, this works to your advantage! He can OK this. Why wouldn't you tell him? He's like a gentle giant. Don't you think he'd want to help her?"
"I know he would," I say honestly. "It's just... it's us."
"What does it have to do with you two?"
"After the accident," I say, and the mood drops in the room. That word between anyone who knows is like an anchor. It falls to the ground and takes everyone around down with it. "It's supposed to be about us right now. I'm supposed to be working on myself and my family, I told him I would. Owen and I are supposed to be trying. If he thinks I'm not being serious about this... he's going to leave me, Arizona. I can feel it."
"He would never. He loves you too much."
"He can't know," I repeat. "He just can't. I just... can you help? As a fetal surgeon... I told her she needs to stay here so we can watch her baby. I just wanted her to have a place to sleep. Maybe you can... can..."
"Lie?"
"You don't even have to lie. Just come once and be really vague. I just want her to stay in the hospital until I can figure out how to help her."
"She can't live in the hospital, Amelia."
"I know that."
"So what are you going to do? Take her in as your own? Raise her kid?"
"No!" I shake my head, trying to make sense of my own thoughts. "I don't know. But I have to do something, right? I can't just send her off in the world alone. She's completely alone, Arizona. All you have to do is meet her once. You'll understand."
"I don't know," she says. "You want me to tell her that her healthy baby is sick?"
"Just... tell her that her baby's heartbeat is irregular. It's not a lie. All babies heartbeats are a little irregular. If you say it in a serious tone as a fetal surgeon and tell her you want to keep her in the hospital for a few more days..."
"It's lying, Amelia."
"Yeah, well, I'm a big fat liar," I say, shrugging my shoulders to try and make this horrible realization seem like a passing by thought. "It's for a good cause, though."
"It's still lying to a patient about her child."
"Think about it," I plead. "You might save her life."
What do you guys think? Should Arizona lie to help Jo?
Let me know in reviews!
